


round two

by caraminha



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, I Do, I Love You, I promise, Infinity War spoilers, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Sick Peter Parker, Team as Family, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Too i swear, Vomiting, Whump, i put peter through some real pain, post IW, some - Freeform, sorry peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 15:16:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15439899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caraminha/pseuds/caraminha
Summary: (INFINITY WAR SPOILERS!)Prompt from mcgarretts-seal-pack on my Tumblr: So since peter felt himself going at the end of infinity war, what if when he came back he had to sort of go through his mutating phase again and tony there for him the entire time. Something along those lines. Maybe all the other avengers being concerned to how peter is suffering when no one else did?!





	round two

  
Peter didn’t want to be alone when they got back.

  
It wasn’t a childish request; neither did Tony. Or Rhodey. Pepper, Bruce, Nat, Wanda, Sam… Steve… none of them.

  
Thor had lost everything and a half. _If a whole-ass demi-god wants some company after this, kiddo,_ Tony had whispered to Peter as he drifted off on the couch, _then you’ve got nothing to be embarrassed for._

  
May had come and gone. She had been with Peter - who valiantly stayed awake the entire time – for a couple hours, but had to get back off to the hospital. Those who hadn’t turned to… you-know-what… after the… you-know-what… had ended up in some really sticky situations. Car, plane, helicopter crashes, abandoned surgeries, construction site accidents… Tony really didn’t envy May Parker right now.

  
And so, finally, with a last glance around him to secure in his mind that he was definitely safe, an exhausted Peter was out like a light.

  
Dropping back down to sit beside his head, Tony draped a thin blanket over him. He curled into it reflexively, sleeve-grasping hands hugging it to his body.

  
Before she’d left, May had murmured in his ear that he was running a low-grade fever. It was probably nothing, but best to keep an eye on him all the same.

  
He had to admit that he’d noticed it too; Peter was pale, kinda grey, almost.

  
He was less talkative, and he had no appetite. He guessed the latter wasn’t _completely_ bizarre – Tony wasn’t gonna be stomaching anything for a good long while yet – but for an enhanced, it meant they’d have to get something down him soon. Tony smiled down at the stubborn kid affectionately - he expected resistance on that.

  
Either way, he’d do as he was told. He’d keep an eye on him.

  
Not as though he wanted to be any further than 20 metres from Peter at any given point for the next few decades anyway.

  
Running a gentle hand through the kid’s hair, he kicked his feet up to rest beside Rhodey’s on the ottoman.

  
Before they’d arrived, Peter had also mentioned how his Spider-Man-ness wasn’t back up to scratch yet. His senses were dulled, his strength not quite there. But he didn’t seem that bothered by it, so neither was Tony. He was just exhausted. Coming back to life was probably a gradual thing.

  
He snorted to himself. _Coming back to life. Resurrection-style. Half the goddamn universe has just pulled a full-blown Jesus Christ._

  
Rhodey patted his thigh and the two shared a look. “You good, dude?”

  
Tony gave him a weary smile and let his eyes wander across the others, who milled about in small groups. Barton, to Tony’s sadness, had gone back to his family soon after returning, but the rest were here.

  
Steve and Sam were cooking en masse. Thor watched, giving well-meaning and amusing directions. The girls were grouped close together on the couch opposite, quietly talking and catching up. Bruce was flat-out on his back, hands steepled on his stomach, snoring softly.

  
If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend it was the good old days.

  
… almost.

  
Well, plus Peter, of course. Out of protective instinct, he let his index and middle finger slip to press Peter’s over-warm pulse point. The rapid fluttering under the pads of his fingers made him frown.

  
“Hm.” He voiced to Rhodey. “Kid’s heart’s galloping.”

  
Rhodey leaned round him to get a look, mirroring his expression. “That not normal?”

  
He shook his head absently. “Nah.” He flattened his palm against Peter’s neck, stroking his thumb up and down in a fruitless but calming gesture.

  
Peter’s face scrunched up then flattened again, exhaling into his hand, lips parted.

  
“He does look tense. I don’t know, he’s probably just overdone it. It is a lot of overexcitement for a 16 year old, Tones.” Rhodey said, the tone of his voice the exact one he uses on Tony when he’s on the verge of an anxiety attack.

  
Tony smirked a little despite himself. Was it that obvious how much he was attached to this kid?

  
“Yeah. You’re probably right. As usual.” Rhodey laughed under his breath and sat back.

  
They sat that way for a while, Peter unconsciously moving so that the crown of his head was pushing against Tony’s leg.

  
He only (reluctantly) left the couch when Pepper insisted he eat something. A huge meal had been made, 2 deep bowls each of pasta and Bolognese laid out on the table. Grabbing a plate, he shot Steve a small, grateful smile.

  
Steve returned it openly, giving a reserved squeeze to his shoulder as he passed behind him to get the garlic bread.

  
Tony dropped his gaze to the ground and coughed. There was a lot to unpack between him and Steve.

  
He had to admit, though, he was quietly excited to have him back.

  
They spread out again to eat, some of them sitting at the kitchen counter, some on the couch, some at the table. He sat between Pepper and Thor on the side of the table that faced Peter.

  
It was funny; he caught everyone sneaking almost-parental glances at Peter every so often.

  
But, he guessed he couldn’t laugh at them. He could hardly stop himself from staring at Peter with thinly veiled worry. It was clear they were all worried at Peter’s slightly trembling form, unsure of why an enhanced kid was getting sick.

  
With more space around him now the couch had been vacated, he’d expected Peter to stretch out, but instead, he’d curled up tightly, arms wrapped around his middle.

  
Rhodey was right: he did look tense. Hell, he was frowning.

  
Pushing down the concerned churning in his stomach, he made an effort to finish his small portion so he could get back to him. Nobody seemed too keen to eat, but the fact that everyone at least had a plate in front of them encouraged a sort-of group mentality of begrudging self-care, nobody wanting to be the one who faced the wrath of their friends for not participating.

  
“D’you get that? Tony?”

  
Pepper placed a hand on his arm. “Tony?”

  
“Huh? Sorry.”

  
“I was just saying, Peter should really have something to eat soon. When was the last time he ate?” Bruce asked.

  
Tony shook his head. He didn’t know. How could he not know? “Not sure.”

  
“That’s not great. You should get on that. I–I’m not saying wake him, but when he does wake, he needs something, okay?”

  
He shook his head again, this time with more fervour. “No, no. I’ll wake him now. He may as well have it while it’s hot.”

  
If anything, it was a good excuse to ditch his plate.

  
He headed back over to Peter, crouching in front of him.

  
Up close, he could see beads of sweat on his forehead. Alarmed, he pushed a cooling hand through his bangs, then moved it to his shoulder, grasping it. “Hey. Pete. Wake up, bud.”

  
Peter woke with a gasp, pressing himself to the back of the couch, his breathing heavy and ragged.

  
Tony had expected it. He didn’t take his hand from his shoulder. “Hey, kiddo.” He murmured faintly. “It’s alright. You know where you are?”

  
Peter swallowed and smiled self-consciously. “Yeah. Yeah. Sorry, man.” Pushing calming breaths out of his mouth, his expression quickly turned to a grimace of pain and he closed his eyes. “Blech.” He said, huffing a humourless laugh at himself.

  
Tony put the back of his hand to his burning forehead. “You alright?”

  
“Yeah.” Peter moved to sit, swinging his legs over lethargically so that they were facing one another, his knees touching Tony’s. Just as Tony was about to call bullshit, he dropped his face into his hands. “Not feeling so hot.”

  
The fact that he admitted it readily made Tony startle. “Where’s his temp at, FRI?”

  
“102.5, Boss.”

  
“Eep.” He smiled softly, sympathetically. “That’s a little higher than I’m comfortable with. Bruce?” He called, beckoning him over.

  
Bruce came immediately. He sat next to Peter, casting a caring eye over him. Tony inwardly thanked whoever was responsible for giving him Bruce Banner. “Hi, Peter.”

  
Peter lifted his head and smiled back. “Hey, Dr Banner.”

  
“Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

  
Peter swallowed. He answered honestly, which was a relief. “I dunno. Just… aching. My head hurts kinda bad. Stomach too. Just feel… not great.”

  
Tony put his hand on his knee. Peter looked at him worriedly, and Tony had to repress a laugh at how quickly he came to reassure _him,_ the adult. “I’m okay, honest. Just think I need some sleep. Could it be, just, like, me coming back? Some kind of side effects, maybe…?” He trailed off as he looked around, at Wanda and Sam specifically, who looked fine.

  
Tony looked to Bruce questioningly. Bruce’s forehead was lined with deep thought. “What kind of aching? Where?”

  
“My arms and legs, mostly, but also inside? Kinda feels like when—oh my god. Mr Stark, d’you think—oh, _god._ Not again.” He croaked unhappily, head meeting his cradling hands again.

  
Tony and Bruce looked on, alarmed. “What? _What_ again, Peter?”

  
Peter turned his head so he could look at Bruce, and pointedly not at Tony. “I, uh, I think I’m going through the spider bite again.” He said simply. “Actually, I know I am.”

  
Tony froze. Peter had told him about the mutation period, as he called it. His Aunt and Uncle had called an ambulance. They’d said he had severe flu, and some kind of viral infection, but could never explain his sudden bounce back to full health.

  
Peter himself for sure didn’t recall it with any affection: Tony remembered him saying it was the most pain he’d ever been in, and then some.

  
His heart sank to his toes.

  
“Shit.”

  
Peter laughed an empty laugh. “Yeah.”

  
Bruce looked between them, trying to deduce something from their reactions. “What can we do?”

  
Peter sat back. “Nothing, it’s okay. I just need to go home and sleep it off. S’only a few days.”

  
Tony’s expression turned to a glare, staring at Peter disdainfully. “You’re funny.”

  
He smiled tiredly, his head lying back on the couch. “I already knew that. But how?”

  
“We are not leaving you alone, Pete, you stupid comedian. Cut that out. Totally un-hilarious.”

  
Peter swallowed sadly. “You don’t wanna see this, Mr Stark.” He pleaded half-heartedly. A pain must’ve shot through him then, because his eyes slid shut and he looked uncomfortable.

  
“Probably not. But only because I don’t want you to go through it. But I guess getting what we want is wishful thinking in this asshole of a reality we live in, so here I am. So, unless I can jump to an alternate universe where I’m on Bondai Beach with a hundred beautiful, naked women, I’m not going anywhere.” Pepper, who’d moved to sit closer in concern for Peter, hit him playfully with a magazine. Tony jerked his eyebrows upwards. “Hey, look at that. Access Denied. Guess you’re lumped with me, kid.”

  
Peter acquiesced at that, laughing. Tony stood, joints cracking, and sat on the couch next to him. Peter settled into his side, bringing his knees up to his chest. “This is gonna suck.”

  
Tony’s arm wound round his back. “I know. I’m real sorry, kiddo.”

  
“Huh. Thought I’d banned the sorries.”

  
“Right. You did. Sorry.”

  
The kid smiled. Tony’s heart ached for him.

  
So that he could have some fever medicine and painkillers, Bruce suggested Peter at least try having something proper to eat – pulling Tony aside to tell him he imagined he’d be needing an IV drip later on. He also wanted to put him under so he wouldn’t be in pain when it got worse, but was worried about dosage. Superhuman dosage and risk overdose, or regular amount and have it wear off too soon, then have to wait a few pain-filled hours to retry? Was there a middle ground? _What was the middle ground?_

  
Tony instructed him to henceforth fluster out in the lab rather than in front of Peter.

  
Peter stared down at the bowl balancing between his chest and knees, fork in hand tapping the enamel in his weak grasp. He was polite, and had taken a few bites, but seemed hesitant to have anymore.

  
Understanding, Tony took it off him and passed it to Thor to finish.

  
Steve was watching warily from the kitchen archway with his arms crossed, leaning on the frame. He offered Peter a kind smile when they met eyes, which made the kid happy for a moment.

  
“Alright?”

  
Peter nodded.

  
“You’re a shocking liar.”

  
“Can I hire you for lessons?” He quipped back. The humour was short-lived, as he swiftly moved his arms back round his stomach. “Ah.”

  
Tony rubbed his knee. “You hurting?”

  
“More nauseous than anything.”

  
“Wanna move to your room?”

  
Peter nodded immediately.

  
“No problem. Let’s go steady, huh?”

  
It was slow going. Everyone offered him well-wishes before he left, Steve and Sam giving him warm looks.

  
He managed to get Peter changed into some loose pyjamas and into bed before he aggressively threw up into the trash can.

  
And that was when it all started to go to shit.

* * *

  
Painkillers, fever reducers and anaesthetic did an absolutely welcomed, beautiful _fuck all._

  
Tony was losing his mind. Everything they used to try and help Peter was burnt off, thrown up, or simply made no dent in his fevered torment.

  
Peter was conscious for most of it, holding back tears and being his regular irritating smile-through-the-pain stoic self.

  
_If he doesn’t cry, I’m gonna,_ he mentally grumbled to himself.

  
It was different when he finally got some shut-eye. Peter tossed and turned in his sleep, groaning and crying openly now his guard was down. 

  
It was making Tony’s heart break. If he thought about it too much, he’d realise that he couldn’t see Peter hurting all over again. It was enough to break anyone.

  
He only quieted when either Tony or May were there, otherwise twisting in the sheets, and a couple of times even having fit-like episodes amidst the unbearable pain and heat.

  
They were in the medbay, with the aircon on high. It should be freezing, Tony knew. He could see the goosepimples on his arms, but to him, the room felt nothing but stifling.

  
The horrible, sticky, sweaty heat that encompassed Peter was all he could feel, all he was caught up in. He wished to god that it was him and not Peter, that he could reverse it.

  
May still had to work, and Peter insisted she go, so it was mostly Tony and Bruce.

  
Right now, he was awake, and not doing so good. He gripped Tony’s hand tightly, who was alternating a cold washcloth between his cheeks and neck.

  
Peter whined softly. Tony loosened a thumb from the fabric and smoothed out the lines on his forehead gently. “Breathe.”

  
He did. Hot puffs of air met Tony’s wrist.

  
“That’s it. You’re doing so well, Pete.”

  
Peter, unsettled and restless, rolled onto his side, facing Tony. The movement made his breath catch in his throat and he screwed his face up in agony. He’d said earlier in the day that it felt like his blood was red hot. He could feel it everywhere.

  
He desperately needed distracting from it.

  
So, Tony did what he did best. Talked. For hours and hours.

  
“Think about everything you’re gonna do when you’re Shelob’s distant relative again, Pete. I got your neighbourhood back for you! What’re you gonna do with it?”

  
Peter shifted into a more comfortable position, expression changing. “Get a sandwich from Mr Delmar and make sure Murph’s okay.”

  
“Who’s Murph?” Tony asked casually, expecting a boyfriend-shaped admission from the kid.

  
“His cat. S’soft.”

  
“Oh.” Tony chuckled. “Fair enough. What else?”

  
“Help some people.”

  
Tony sighed. He re-wet the cloth in the ice water, squeezed it out, and bunched it up so it’d stay on Peter’s forehead. “Good man.”

  
Peter smiled slightly. " _Spider_ -Man.”

  
“ _Spider-_ Man. My bad. The ‘good’ still stands, though.”

  
“Day is it?”

  
“Tuesday. Third day of this.”

  
“Lasted 5 days last time. Halfway. Woohoo.” He deadpanned breathlessly.

  
“You’re doing great, buddy.”

  
“Mmm.”

  
“Tired?”

  
“Mmhmm.”

  
Tony rested his hand over Peter’s eyes. “Try and sleep.”

  
“I can try.”

  
“Yup. S’all I’m asking for here.”

  
“Mr Stark?”

  
“Uh-huh?”

  
“Thanks.”

  
“You’re very welcome, Pete.”

* * *

  
Steve had to come and restrain a bucking, thrashing Peter when the final phase of the mutation hit.

  
The kid sobbed miserably, crying out hoarsely in pain. He was delirious, calling out for May, and Tony, and his Uncle Ben, like a lost and scared little kid.

  
Tony had to remind himself that Peter still was.

  
He’d been sleeping soundly enough for once when his eyes had snapped open and his heartrate had gone through the roof. Tony couldn’t get a word out of him, his breathing rabid and his eyes roaming the room but seeing nothing.

  
Peter had reached out for him in urgency, grabbing fistfuls of Tony’s clothes and holding on with such a white-knuckle grip that it pinched the skin underneath painfully. He was panting.

  
_“Tony. Tony, it hurts. Tony, it really hurts.”_

  
That was the last coherent thing he’d said since then.

  
The only thing keeping Tony’s head above water right now - the only thing keeping him from having the most PTSD flashback-fuelled anxiety attack of the century - was the fact that this would be over soon, and that the fact that Peter was feeling pain meant he was real. That he was back.

  
That, and the fact that Steve was there, and he didn’t want to freak out in front of him.

  
Steve’s expression was agonised. He hadn’t known Peter for long, but it was impossible not to get attached. He held onto him as gently as possible whilst still restrained him enough so he wouldn’t hurt himself. Tony nodded at him in grim thanks. He nodded back.

  
_Soon we’re gonna have to actually speak to each other._

  
_For now, I guess helping my kid is enough._

* * *

  
The fever broke a couple hours after that. Tony breathed a sigh of relief he’d been holding for days. So did Peter.

  
Tony was so proud of him, that he’d come through it all, again.

  
If that were him, he’d have milked it for all he’d got. Peter wasn’t so melodramatic.

  
That being said, once the kid was out of his hair (not that he wanted that, not at all), he was gonna update the suit. He never wanted Peter to feel pain ever again. Not under his watch.

  
If that kid got so much as a splinter, you could be sure as shit Tony would know about it. Peter could argue all he wanted, but that was how it was gonna be. _Peter_ didn’t have to watch his kid sob and dry heave and scream for the past 5 days, and that was that.

  
Now that it was over, Peter was ready to blast off through the roof with the amount of energy he had.

  
He’d thanked everyone a million times, apologised a million times more, and doled out hugs like they were going out of fashion. Tony looked on fondly.

  
They were all sat on the couch together again, a parallel to the scene a few days ago. _Raiders of the Lost Ark_ was playing on the TV. Steve and Wanda watched with intensity, having never seen it before.

  
_“Snakes. Why did it have to be snakes?”_ Peter mouthed along, biting into his pizza. He leaned over to Tony so that Steve and Wanda were out of earshot. “Isn’t this the best scene?”

  
Tony hummed a laugh. “Sure is, kiddo.”

  
Peter grinned at him, big and wide.

  
Tony closed his eyes.

  
Okay. It wasn’t like the good old days.

  
Not one bit. Nowhere near. A thousand miles from.

  
It was better.

**Author's Note:**

> If you wanna send me a prompt or even just chat with me, my tumblr is caraminha and im happy to do either!!!


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